Make big plans, but don't let them limit your horizons. If a side road beckons, take it. Often it will lead back onto the main road again, but meanwhile you have found the rainbow, the little window in the sky, and ever afterward your life will be brighter for its color.
~Marguerite Henry

There was a time when any young girl, especially those who loved horses (who didn't?), was well-acquainted with Marguerite Henry. I suspect many youngsters today know about her, too, thanks to the wonderful books she authored - mostly about horses. Many are still in print. The most famous is probably Misty of Chincoteague, one of her Newbery award-winners.

While enjoying two recently-published biographies about Marguerite, I've been fondly recalling those books, a few of which still sit on my shelves. (One of them bears an inscription from her; I was lucky enough to meet Ms. Henry when I was just six years old.)

I opened this post with some words of advice from Marguerite Henry, guidance she clearly followed herself. This was a woman who made big plans and figured out how to bring them to fruition. Sometimes the routes were circuitous, but she persisted. Often there were nuggets of gold in those detours.

She could just as easily have been talking about photography.

I don't know anyone who doesn't go into a shoot with some sort of plan in mind. Whether it's quite detailed and specific or very loosely structured, most of us have some idea where we're headed and what we'd like to try to accomplish.

Frequently, though, we end up pivoting. Often it's out of necessity; the conditions or some other circumstance requires a change in strategy. It's not unusual for this to result in a happy outcome. You make a better photograph than what was originally intended. However, this isn't always the case. Even if you strike out photographically, though, you might receive some sort of gift.

Maybe you don't walk away with a photo, but experience something special: you see something interesting, or find a new spot you know you'll want to return to in the future. That's the rainbow Marguerite speaks of.

Plans are fine. Rigidly sticking to a plan no-matter-what generally isn't helpful and can easily narrow your vision. Don't be afraid to call an audible.

Taken literally, I love what this quote has to say about side roads. After moving to New Hampshire, I found myself frequently veering off the beaten path.

When I first arrived in the White Mountains, my familiarity with the region was pretty much limited to the Kancamagus Highway, a spectacular scenic drive winding through 30+ miles of the White Mountain National Forest. Absolutely stunning, and what a way to begin. But obviously there was much more to learn. So began my wandering.

Not every side road led to a photo opportunity, but each one helped me become more familiar with the area. I uncovered useful shortcuts. I discovered perfect little out-of-the-way places where I could enjoy solitude even at the height leaf peeping season. And yes - I found some great places to shoot along the way, too. Little windows in the sky, as Marguerite Henry would say. These are treasures!

Occasionally, the routes I ended up taking were so random I couldn't always retrace my steps. Case in point: I once found a cemetery filled with huge, beautiful specimen maple trees and stopped to shoot there one afternoon.

The idea of cemeteries planted with such trees in New England is not unique, but this specific one was idiosyncratic for me in that I was never able to locate it again. I have a general idea where it is and tried to find it on more than one occasion but never ended up on the right road.

When I moved to Eastern Idaho, I took the same approach to familiarizing myself with the area as I had in New Hampshire. Within the first year, I'd already covered a lot of ground. At the time, a local friend who's always interested in hearing about where I've been working asked me about my latest photo shoot. As I was telling her about it, she said, "I was born and raised here and I don't know where some of these places are!"

If the side road looks interesting, by all means, take it.

 About the Photographs

Top: Side roads come in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes it's a rural highway intersection; you'd intended to go straight but change your mind and hang a right. On the other hand, it might be more rustic, like this one in Pinkham Notch, New Hampshire.

I'm not the type of person who loves to get hopelessly lost, so I pay close attention to which general direction I'm heading and where I've made turns in case I need to retrace my steps to find my way back.

I've discovered oh-so-many cool things along the way.

Above: About those New England cemeteries...

I made this photograph in one of my favorites, located in Dover, New Hampshire. The maples there are massive and planted in neat rows. Red, yellow and orange: all fiery colors are represented. When the leaves begin to fall, they cover the ground so densely it's like a carpet. Then there's just as much color under your feet as in the canopy above. Spectacular.

In Local News

Autumn is fast approaching here in Teton Country. Thankfully! The rabbit brush are all blooming (yellow, of course - that's the predominant wildflower and foliage color around here) and the Grand was dusted with snow after some monsoonal moisture moved through the mountains other day.